


The Abyss Of My Missing Heart

by KittyLover



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Murder, BAMF Light Yagami, BAMF Ocs, BB is an ass, Blood and Violence, Bottom Yagami Light, Character Death, Crazy OCs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Evil Plans, Explicit Language, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Gray Morals, Happy Ending, Healing, His good in this fic I swear, I'm bad at Humor, L acts as a therapist, L might not be a good impromptu therapist but he tries, Light is a straight faced liar, Light is troubled but he stays good here, M/M, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Moving On, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Out of Character, Past Rape/Non-con, Please Don't Hate Me, Redemption, Revenge, Secrets, Slow Burn, Smut, Some Humor, Supernatural Elements, Survival Horror, Tags Are Hard, The Author Regrets Nothing, These Tags Are So Random, Top Yagami Light, ass ass ass, author would never lie, can I say I'm considering a happy ending but i might go for a more gray one?, can't speak for when he rages, did I mention smut?, don't get too excited, evil OCs - Freeform, he don't mind, light is a shinigami, mentions of past trauma, most the time, moving on from trauma, murder investigation, redeeming Light, some mystery, some sick fucks out there yo, these tags do a 180, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-17 21:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21750331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyLover/pseuds/KittyLover
Summary: Light Yagami is brutally stabbed to death, his life taken from him before his time. The consequence for this is that his place in Heaven is striped from him, his soul too pure to be sent to Hell, he finds himself in the Shinigami realm. The only thing fuelling him to survive this waist land is his inextinguishable need for revenge...ORMy take on the shinigami realm and the supernatural world and what would happen if Light died before he could become Kira and instead became a shinigami. A revenge plot with some crazy OCs and LxLight thrown into it.
Relationships: L/Yagami Light, Yagami Light & Misa Amane, Yagami Light & Original Character(s), Yagami Light & Task force, Yagami Light & Yagami Sachiko, Yagami Light & Yagami Sayu, Yagami Light & Yagami Souichirou, Yagami Light/OC, Yagami Sachiko/Yagami Souichirou, Yagami Sayu/OC
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63





	1. Welcome to Purgatory!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our favourite God complex psycho has his world taken from him; but at least he meets a friendly face?

**Chapter 1: Chapter 1 : Welcome to Purgatory**

* * *

Authors note: I did write and post this story previously but I never continued it. I came across as I was sifting through old papers and I thought, "Hey, I did this story three years ago an never finished it. Why don't I continue it?" So I revamped this fanfic and decided to go all the way and finish it. To those who might have read the older fic; sorry I never continued it like I promised. Though, you know what they say, late is better than never. I hope you enjoy this.

Tags; Graphic depiction of violence, mentions of depression, hell, heaven and purgatory concept, mentions of past trauma, alternate universe, OC, characters might be a bit OOC, Light behaves differently as he never obtains the death note, future LxLight, slow burn, like really slow, anguish, hurt and comfort, romance, bit of horror and supernatural.

Note; I've decided to put my own twist on the usual death God concept of Death Note. I will explain things in the fic as I go.

* * *

Chapter 1: Welcome To Purgatory

* * *

**_"were better to thank God for it, since the more you undergo down here, the less you will endure above. Grief is a portion of one's heritage taken in advance from Purgatory."_ **

**_Saint Lydwine of Schiedam_ **

* * *

A chill ran down Ratio Yagami's spine as the icy breeze of the night fluttered by him. He pushed his fisted hands deeper into the pockets of his school blazer. He held his shoulders high and rigid in a failed attempt to retain heat. The cold simply ignored his useless troubles and sunk deeper into his bone. It caused his teeth to chatter and Ratio knew he had to make it back home soon. Less he finds himself in the afterlife from hypothermia.

The light click of his boots on the concrete sidewalk were the only sounds in the void of night; besides the shaken breaths he took, the chirp of a cricket and the occasional dog howl that sent shivers of fear through his bean.

All lights were off except the rhythmic street laps and the episodic porch light as the neighborhood people soundly and safely slept in their beds. An image of Ratio's own comfy bed flashed by his mind longingly as he forced his exhausted body onwards.

A sigh escaped his cold lips as he jerked his right arm up into his line of sight. The fabric around his wrist slid back as he did so to reveal the digital wristwatch. Its crimson digits glowed to allow him to tell the time in dark shadows he walked in.

_00:13_

"Damn its late…"He cursed under his breath and hissed as the cold bit at his hand. He shoved his hand abruptly back into the warm safety of his pocket. _'I'm never again going to let Trigger talk me into staying out this late…'_ He mentally scolded himself.

Hikigane Shiawasena was a tricky one to deal with. His intelligence almost rivaled Ratio's but the black haired maniac enjoyed to waste his time and cunning on ridicules stunts and pranks. He was a person full of jokes and laughs; even at the worst of times. Ratio could still remember the day he had gone to an acquaintance's funeral with Trigger. The idiot purposely set an alarm, with the tone of 'High way to hell', to go off during the wake. He had felt like strangling the infuriating boy right there in the church and had considered throwing his body in the casket before they buried it; but he was to focused on keeping himself from laughing.

Ratio usually tried to keep everyone worth mentioning in his life pleased with him. Even if it meant he had to lie about what he truly felt. Trigger though, he could see right through Ratio and tried his damn best to push his buttons or to convince him of doing things that might piss people off. This time Trigger had convinced him to stay out long past his curfew.

Tired auburn eyes looked on to the deserted streets before him; an eerie image of dark deserted streets and dull lights with dark shadows all around. Shadows that were perfect places for monsters to hide in…

Memories of the terrifying horror movies Trigger liked to subjected him too shoved their way to the forefront of his mind. A shiver of fear trickled it's way down his back as he cursed the day he met the dark haired Japanese boy.

Now that he wished to get home as soon as possible, Ratio decided to take a calculate risk and turned into a gravel pathway that cut through the only field in his neighborhood; which separated him from his home. It was a short cut that he walked many times before on his way to Trigger's house. Even with the fear that began to clutch at his heart and his instincts that told him to run; he walked on.

He reasoned with himself that he lived in one of the safer neighborhoods, that he had walked this path at night before and that he only felt fear now because of Trigger's damn horror fetish. Though that did not stop his legs from breaking into a brisk walk that could be considered as a light jog.

When he reached a fork in the path he instinctively and quickly turn right. He knew these little pathways well and could technically walk them with his eyes closed, if he tried.

He could remember how he and would sneak out into these fields with Trigger, during school breaks or events. It was quite easy for Ratio to sneak around and even if they were caught a time or two. People usually did not question where the son of the chief of police was headed. There was a place near the middle of the field. A cluster of rocks that were surrounded by thick tall grass. It was a place that he could hide from the world and be completely genuine. No fake smiles to hide the crippling depression he felt constantly or the constant mask he held to please those around him.

If Ratio considered half the naughty things he and Trigger got up too, since he met the strange teenager, he could only imagine how livid his parents would be. His father especially.

His parents usually left him to his own devices as long as his grades stayed in the hundreds and his reputation stayed clean. With his father's workaholic tendencies and his mother's wishful thinking; Ratio was free to do as he pleased as long as his parents did not know what the extent or severity of some of his actions were. If they only truly knew what he did they would have his head. So he has kept them oblivious to his darker nature.

To them he was the perfect son; and why would they think anything else if he did not portray himself as anything else. The only one in his family that even ever got glimpses of how truly imperfect Ratio was, was is sister, Sayu Yagami. Even then he loved his sister too much to burden her with the ugly monstrosity that was his mind.

To the world Ratio was perfect; one of the highest IQs in Japan, most popular in his high school by his peers and most loved by his teachers and he had a moderately rich family with high respect were it mattered. His life to an outsider was perfect.

_'If they only knew the horrors I survived…'_

Memories of burnt and maimed corpses, burning buildings with wrecked cars and ashed roads scattered around, horridly twisted faces screaming in agony and that twisted and evil man with the crooked smile and deranged eyes flurried in Ratio's mind. It caused his head to throb with the beginnings of a headache and his stomach to twist in knots.

The teenager shook his head of the red painted memories and pressed on with more vigor in his step. He now had more determination to get to his bed and sleep away his woes.

Yes. To the world he was perfect.

Was perfect.

_'Too perfect…'_

A sigh escaped his lips as his limbs began to feel heavy and he slowed his tap to-

A pain shot through the back of his head as something solid came in contact with his skull. The sudden attack forced Ratio harshly to his knees. He lead forward with his hands clutched at his pained head. Before he could raise his head another smashing pain erupted in his right side and sent him hurdling to the dirt ground.

Shards of glass cut through his blazer and button up shirt; a useless protection to his surroundings. A growl rumbled in his throat as he lifted himself up. The sound of a crunch behind him alerted him to his attackers approach. He tried to turn and strike at his attacker but they struck at his back before he had the chance. He crumbled to the ground with an agonized cry. His back felt as if it was struck with a sharp object. He could feel the razor pain sliced down his shoulder blade accompanied by something thick, hot and slick.

Ratio could feel his attacker above him. His he could feel his own heart beat pick up and the rush of blood in his ears. He could feel the overwhelming fear that clawed at his heart and strangled his throat.

_'I'm going to die if I don't do something…'_

CRUNCH

CRUNCH

THUD

A bruising boot pressed into his shoulder. It further aggravated the wound on Ratio's back. The pain burned through is muscles and forced a chocked whimper from his lips.

_'There right above me.'_

He stretched his hands out to something, anything that could help him. His fingers touched a cold, smooth and sharp-edged surface and he closed his hand around it. He barely registered the stinging pain in his hand that was dulled by the adrenaline cursing through his vains; before he blindly thrusted the object in his hand into his attacker's leg.

With a shout, the attacker stumbled back and Ratio took his opportunity to scrambled to his feet to face the bastard that struck him. He was ready to hurl himself at his attacker in rage but it was far too dark to see were exactly they were. The only thing that helped the teenager to make out the growling figure before him was the dull sheen of the full moon. The outline of the crouched figure stood up and revealed just what a hulking mass they were.

At the sight of how massive his would be opponent was compared to him, Ratio lost all and any anger that might have bloomed in the initial attack in an instant. His dead rage was quickly replaced by fear that overwhelmed him and the only thought to cross his mind was run.

His legs seemed to have a mind of their own as they forced him into a sprint down the pathway. He did not get far before a sharp pain erupted in his left leg followed by his right shoulder. The sudden pain caused Ratio to crash back into the dirt with an agonized cry.

Ratio tried to get up, tried to get away, but when he moved pain shot through his body. He was left to whimper and cry into the dirt as the intense ache became too much.

A giddy laugh instantly quieted the wounded teenager as he focused on the heavy thud of boots that approached him.

"Please wait- " Ratio's please were cut short as he was roughly tugged over onto his back. A heavy weight fell onto his midsection and pinned him down. He coughed harshly as it became harder and harder for him to breath as it felt as if his chest was filled up with water. There was a thick taste of iron in his mouth and warm liquid trickled down the side of his face.

He struck out at the dark figure above him. He snarled, scratched and spat at them with all he had. He wanted them off. He wanted to get away. He should not have bean there.

_'I should have stayed at Trigger's house…'_

The figure above him seemed to grow impatient with Ratio's struggles and struck him back, repeatedly. Blow after blow his head was smashed into the ground. White spots began to form at the edges of his vision and a sharp sound screech in his ears.

Ratio felt dazed, his head throbbed and he barely noticed that his attacker had stopped beating into his skull. He could scarcely make out through squinted eyes the twinkle of shiny teeth grinning down at him and the shine of a knife that hovered above him.

The scene clicked in Ratio's mind and sent shocks of alarm through his system just in time for him to use his arm as a shield. He wailed in pain as the knife cut through flesh and embedded into bone.

He blindly began to scratch and claw at the figure's face with his free hand and did his best to blind them. He heard a frustrated grunt before the knife in his a wash yanked out. Ratio hissed a cursed at the shock of pain in his arm and was distracted enough for his wrists to be pinned above his.

Ratio's lungs aced at his rapid breaths and his heart violently struck at his ribcage as he stubbornly and furiously thrashed about, in a fruitless attempt to escape the domineering figure that forced him down. He fought through the pain, fought through the profuse panic in is bean and he damn well would fight this bastard tooth and nail.

The shadowed figure forced Ratio down further with a knee pressed to his chest painfully. A howl of agony erupted in the teenagers throat and echoed in the night as he felt his rib cage crack and press agents his heart. A hand left his wrist and it gave him the opportunity to strike at the bastard. A sense of accomplishment washed over him as he landed a sturdy blow to the face.

The figure growled deeply in outrage, Ratio's brief victory was short lived as a sharp object shredded through his throat. His body went rigged with shock; his mind blank. Time seemed to slow down, and then ricochet back into dreading reality.

Hot tears poured down his paling cheeks in rivers as he numbly grabbed at the figure above with his free hand. Salty tears mingled with glistening blood. It creeped abundantly down the sides of his throat. The hot crimson liquid filled his mouth and trapped fear filled screams in gurgled bubbles.

The glittering black of night turned pitch black. The figure disappeared into the darkness; only it's gleaming, wicked teeth could be seen vaguely as his body numbed to all. His hand fell from its hold on the figure to lie motionlessly beside his head. Coldness clutched around his heart and steadily slowed its rapid beats to stillness.

Ratio lungs relaxed to release his final breath that plunged him into darkness.

* * *

He felt as if he was floating like a leaf left adrift in the ocean. An ocean with black waters. It's dark depths unknown and its inky blackness surrounded him in that gravity deprived place.

Senseless thoughts drifted in and out of his mind in lazy bouts; never the same and never coherent. No matter how hard he tried to decipher these rhythmless musings in his foggy mind; he could never grasp onto them long enough to make sense of them. They were as smooth flowing, formless, colorless and meaningless as the black waters around him.

There in that cold abyss he felt numb and lifeless. In the empty void he floated in; he melded with the empty waters. As if he was in a dreamless sleep.

It was peaceful. It was comforting. It was empty. It was a deep sleep. It was like the welcomed arms of deaths embrace after years of suffering.

So suddenly the peace was destroyed by light that flashed across his eyes. Were his eyes even open? Was he not asleep?

The light intensified into a blinding white that shocked his system into awareness. Then the light vanished and was replaced by imagery that surged and pulsed as if alive.

_A woman smiling at him as she held a small fragile babe in her arms. A smiling bearded man who held his broad and strong hand over his should._

_The welcoming arms of a bright figure that seemed so warm and comforting . The figure seemed so sad to see him go. So was so familiar yet so foreign. Like he was coming home after years of being gone._

**_White teeth that glinted in the dark maliciously. The gleam of a sharpened blade that hovered oh so menacingly…_ **

His eyes snapped open to reveal panicked red orbs. He instinctively gasped for air but found non. His panic intensified as he state up and began to claw at his throat.

 _'Breath, breath, breath…'_ He chanted in his mind in hopes it would come true. Moments passed and he soon relished that he was not suffocating like he should be. He frowned in confusion as he held his hand over his mouth and tried to breath out.

Nothing. No air at all left his lips although his chest and shoulders moved with the motion that seemed to indicate life. No breath touched his hand.

**_His brief victory was short lived as a sharp object shredded through his throat._ **

He unconsciously slipped his hand down to his throat to feel for a wound yet he found only smooth skin. Smooth skin coated with a dry and cracked substance. He scratched at his throat to get it off.

He brought his hand away to look at it. To find that the substance he scratched off his through looked like dark, reddish flacks. Like dried blood left to bake in the sun

He felt the indents of one of his palms to find that there was the same substance creeped into the various shallow wrinkles of his hand. His hand slipped up his wrist as he felt along his inner arm. He could see that his whole arm was coated in the same matter as his throat and palms. He looked down his body to find that he was naked except for the same dark flacks that trickled along his chest.

"Blood?" He murmured with a depend ground.

Confusion consumed his mind as he tried to make sense of his state of body. He looked around for help but only found a barren waist land. It's strange monotone colors seemed as if the pigment was sucked out of the land. Dark almost black rocks scattered over gray sand. The expected blue sky was a dark gray with clouds almost as dark as the rocks.

_'Where the hell am I?'_

He tried to remember how he came to be here, naked in a strange land and covered in what appeared to be dried blood; but his memory came to a blank. Only a familiar dread and a deep rooted despair would dig into his chest when he tried to recall what happened. It brought cold tears to his eyes. His eyes burned and blurred as rivers ran down his cheeks to drop down his chin and neck.

Why was he so sad? Was it because he could not recall anything; even his own name? Was it because he felt that he lost something precious and irreplaceable? Or was it because deep down in his subconscious he knew why he was and how he came to be here?

He could not control the unreasonable pain he felt. It was crippling and it was unfair. Unfair because he could not remember the reason he was so sorrowful. The confusion that accompanied the agony was frustrating. Sobs began to rack his body in jerked motions as he curled in on himself.

With his face buried in his knees and his ears filled with his own misery; he did not notice the heavy crunch of a stranger's feat on the course sand as they approached. Not until an abrupt and jolly-filled laugh shocked him out of his depressed state. He whirled around to see who the intruder was and what he saw surprised him.

What stood before him could not be considered human. The creature stood tall at what seemed over two meters. It was a flesh less skeleton with sharp teeth and gazelle horns protruding put its skull. It was covered in black tattered clothes ; similar to that of the stereotypical reaper. What bone-limbs that were left uncovered by the dark cloth was embroidered with purple gems and silver patterns. The gems and silver etching swirled all around ivory surfaces in elegant patterns. Its eyes closed in a menacing red.

This creature shook him with terra yet mesmerized him with its strange beauty.

A chuckle past through its sharp teeth as its jaws unhinge to speak.

**"Welcome to Purgatory."**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments help feed my writers soul. Give me motivation I beg you! And don't forget to kudo if you like.❤


	2. The fylgja

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our Lighty boy learns a bit more about this new person (?) and place his in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I began writing fan-fiction as a fun way to improve my writing abilities. So any and all comments or constructive criticism will be welcomed by me

**_“When the Fox hears the Rabbit scream he comes a-runnin', but not to help.”_ **

**_― Thomas Harris, The Silence of the Lambs_ **

“Purgatory?”

The stunned and bloodstained youth could not help but parrot the word as he stared dumbfounded at the strange and royally embellished skeleton before him. Its raged black cloths a stark contrast to its beautifully decorated and jewel encrusted bones. What was even stranger for the youth came the thought of how this creature could speak. Its bones seemed to be picked clean from any flesh, any muscle that could be used to produce vocals. Such a magically strange bean with the horns of dragons.

“Did I s-stutter.” The creature mocked with a rich laughter that bubbled out of it. Its clothed and bony shoulders shook with a wicked joy. Its long white hands grasp at a non-existent belly; inky claw like nails dug into even darker colored cloth. Its red eyes gleamed at him as its gum-less teeth grinned at him. This things appearance screamed dangerous.

The young brunette frowned at the rude creature and an indignant rage reared in him. Regardless of the warning bells that went off in his mind.

“Did _I_ stutter?” He snapped back without much thought.

The creature’s laughter came to an abrupt halt that settled an eerie silence between the two. A silence the youth immediately regretted being the creator of. The creature took a threatening step forward. Its bony and large foot thudded with the dry ground loudly.

The naked boy yelped and jerked back. His instinct to run screamed loudly in his head; but run to where? He took a brief glance around his surroundings. The bleak sight of a desecrated and colorless wasteland greeted his searching eyes and he concluded that he would not get far if he ran.

“Runnin’ won’t help ya.”

The gruff voice that answered his privet thoughts frightened him. Could this creature read his mind? If so it did not seem pleased with him. The harsh tone of voice was nowhere close to the jolly pitch he was first introduced too. He had angered this dangerous entity.

He chose to heed the advice given to him and froze in his place and stared wearily at the creature that stared back at him. His hands and knees dug into the gray ground below him. Crouched low as he watched the creature make the first move. He fought against his instinct to run, his instinct to curl in himself and his instanced to fight. He felt he should not further push his luck with this thing.

The horned skeleton reached into its ratty dark clothes that sort of resembled an old and warn kimono as it began to take slow and deliberate steps towards the bloodstained youth. Said boy swallowed hard as he watched the bulk of this creature growl larger and larger as it came closer to him. This thing was humongous in size compared to him. It seemed to at least stand three-meters-tall.

He wished to run and hide from the creature yet his limbs were numb and stiff with hopelessness. All he could do was shakily and slowly push himself off his knees into a low crouch, in a pathetic attempt to stand his ground against the hulking monstrosity before him. Its flesh might have been stripped from it clean but its bones were still as massive and thick as a giants’. This creature was truly a sight to fear.

“Fresh meat.”

The skeleton called out to him as it stopped a mere three large passes from the youth. Its words made him further weary as they implanted ideas of cannibalism in his mind. Though could this thing truly cannibalize him if it did not appear human. The word cannibalism was reserved to the evil that would eat its own kind. This creature may have seemed like it might have once bean human, a very big human, but it was no longer human now and not the youth’s kind whatsoever. Or was it truly like that? For some odd reason he could not help but feel a familiarity with this creature. The kind reserved to finding a kindred soul.

“I won’t hurt ya.” The skeleton’s words were softer and less gruff than before. Dare he think almost soothing. Its actions contradicted its statement as it pulled out a dagger from its garments. For a split second he thought the creature was going to throw the blade at him. He flinched back as he closed his eyes to ready himself for the expected pain. Non came however. Instead he heard the clunk of a blade embedded into soil.

He opened his eyes to see the dagger the skeleton once held embedded into the ground inches before him; though compared to the youth’s overall size, the dagger could be considered a two handed long-sword. It had a sharp silver tipped pommel, with round purple gems stoned into both sides. The daggers handle a smooth black glass that reflected his disheveled appearance. An iron ferrule with shark tooth patterns carved into it. The cross-guard asymmetrically morphed into black sharp edges and silver smelted into the sides with black gems that lined the sides. The blade itself curved and morphed to resemble a jagged saber tooth. White gold seemed to be smelted into the sides with round purple gems stoned in a row down the length of the blade. It was a beautiful and dangerous looking blade.

“You’ll be needin’ that.”

He looked up to ask what he would need this for but to his surprise he found it gone. The giant horned skeleton had vanished as if it was never there. He was now with a dagger the size of his arm in baron waist land with no recollection or memory of how he got there or where or who he was and he was alone. Or so he thought until an ear piercing scream erupted in the distance and shattered the silence the skeleton left.

In a sudden panic he scrambled to his feet and grabbed the dagger. He held it in two hands at the ready. He strangely began to feel calmer now that he held the blade. A numbness began to seep into his chest. A feeling he could not explain. Like something was slowly being taken from him but he could not tell what.

Another scream erupted in the distance and drew his attention from the strange feeling that accumulated in him. More and more blood curdling screeches joined the first few. They created a terrifying choir fit for a horror show theme song.

He could feel fear pules through him with every scream yet it felt watered down and cut off. As if he should feel more afraid yet was incapable of such an intense emotion. He felt more frustration than fear. It crawled under his skin like a parasite. It scratched at the back of his neck like a long forgotten memory that he desperately wished to recall.

The sorrow and confusion he felt earlier was all but forgotten. It was replaced by a slowly growing coldness. A frigid cold that numbed his heart and steeled his limbs to iron. He felt stronger and far more aware of his own body and surroundings than he could ever remember being.

A haunting cry sounded off somewhere past the large black boulders he faced and this one sounded very close. He could here loud scratching and scuffling behind the boulders as if something was climbing up it. He griped the dagger tighter and steadied himself for what was to come. A deadly calm settled itself over him as he felt his body ready for something. He felt as his body was no longer in his in his control. This should frighten him but he did not achieve the opportunity to contemplate the issue any further.

An animalistic growl that came from above the boulders drew his gaze towards a terrifying creature. It appeared humanoid yet it looked horribly deformed. Its limbs were disproportionate with its arms longer and thinner than it legs. Its hands were large and its nails resembled knives instead of claws. It looked badly malnourished yet its bony body appeared to be strong and deadly. Its faces were morphed into a gaping maw with long, sharp teeth. Its eyes and nose were gaping holes of inky blackness.

It crouched on the top of the rock and raised one of its clawed hands as it unhinged its jaw and released an ear piercing screech. It lunched itself of the rock and began to sprint towards the armed youth.

Some sort of foreign predatory instinct took over him as he watched the screeching monster gnash its teeth at him as it ran. The trickle of fear he had felt was now completely gone and replaced with a steady calm that took over his whole bean. His eyes sharpened along with his that muscles tensed and his grip on the dagger tightened. His body acted without thought as he lunged towards the creature that pivoted towards him. With one swift motion he beheaded the screeching thing and silenced it forever.

Before he could begin to feel surprised at his own actions another cry sounded off to his left along with more that seemed to come from every direction. More of the horrifying creatures began to appear in the distance. Crawling over rocks and the bones of dead things that he could not recognize. They snapped their teeth together like rabid dogs as they ran towards the bloodstained youth.

One rounded a boulder very close to him and barreled towards him. He stumbled back as it reached him in an instance. It took him by surprise and he was not able to dodge its claws that slashed at him. Its long nails cut through his chest and he hissed at the slice of pain. He slashed back at the creature with the blade and slit its throat, almost beheading the thing. Its head dangled uselessly before it collapsed to the ground.

He was surprised by a sudden pain that stabbed into his shoulder. He blindly swirled around to stab the dagger into the head of the monster that had decided to skewer his shoulder. The blade pierced to the cross-guard into the creature’s skull with a sickly wet crunch. The thing collapsed to the ground and the he followed it, he crouched over it, to keep his grip on the dagger.

The sounds of heavy foot fall accompanied by labored growling alerted the brunette to the approaching danger behind him. He tried to yank the dagger out to cut down the next target but the blade was stuck. The dead creators head instead tugged with the blade; its open jaw shaking with the movement in a way that made his stomach twist. The noises behind him became louder with every second that past along with the slowly growing panic inside him. He put his foot on the dead things head to give him some leverage as he yanked harder.

He glanced behind him to see the open maw of a monster with edged teeth ready to sink into its victim. He used his forearm to shield himself from having his jugular ripped out. Teeth clamped down on his arm and sunk into his bones. He bit back a pained cry as he finally pulled the dagger lose in time to stab the creature in the eye socket before it got the chance to maim his face off.

Another crawled its way over the dead one to snap at the youth with its rotten teeth. It tackled him to the ground and caused him to lose his grip on the handle of the dagger. His back hit the ground with a heavy thud. The creature clawed at his chest in a frenzy and desperately tried to bit his head off. The only thing that kept the youth’s jugular intact was his shredded forearm. His unoccupied hand searched for the missing dagger in a hurry. He found a broken old bone instead and immediately shoved it into the creature’s throat. The monster gave one last gurgled cry before it went silent and fell limp on the youth.

The maimed youth struggled as he shoved the hideous corps off of him and staggered to his feet. He spotted the dagger and grabbed it before he impaled it into the heart of the next creature that tried to jump him. He yanked the blade back and watched as the creature tried to numbly slash at him before it let its last labored breath out and crumbled to the ground.

A menacing growl brought his gaze to the monster crouching low before him. It watched him wearily as if gauging whether to attack him or not. The maimed and tired youth realized that this might be the last monster in the area. That might be why it was being much more cautious than the rest that just mindlessly threw themselves at him. It no longer has its pack to back it. This cautious nature did not last long before it seemed to grow inpatient. It stood up to its full height and stretched out its arms and claws as if it was trying to make itself seem bigger. Like a cat that puffed out its fur in the face of danger. It let out a haunting cry before it charged towards the youth. Said youth acted quickly as he sidestepped the creature and slashed at its arm. The blade cut through its elbow and amputated half its arm. The arm fell to the ground as the creature seemed to cry out in pain. That did not stop the thing and only seemed to make it angrier. It whirled around in a frenzy and blindly slashed at the youth. It lunged at him like a mad dog with a scream of vengeance. The youth let out his own raged and frustrated war cry as he forcefully stabbed the dagger into the creature’s chest. They both fell to the ground by the force of it. The thrashing creature went limp and the tired youth staggered to his feet.

He took a moment to scan the area for any more hostiles. He found none besides the dead ones that littered the ground around him. He took a closer look at the corpses and to his surprise the deed bodies began to rapidly decay. As if he was watching a taped video set to fast-forward, the flesh and muscles of the corpses began to break down. Already gray skin turned black and peeled back to reveal maggots that expeditiously broke the corpses down to bones. The bones were picked clean in seconds before it seemed as if the maggots began to die. The yellow maggots lost their color before turning black then they shriveled up and turned to ash. The sight appalled him and the blood stained youth had to force himself not to gag and to will the slowly growing nausea away.

What had just happened? What were those things? How did he kill them all so easily? Was he a trained fighter and he just could not remember like everything else?

He looked down at his hands and the dagger as if it had all the answers that he needed. He only found more questions as to his amazement his maimed arm began to stitch itself together. The ugly wound sizzled as if battery acid was poured on it yet he felt no pained sensation besides the strange feeling of his flesh moving on its own. A numb sensation such as pins and needles that pricked his skin lightly in rapped succession. The torn flesh mended itself together slowly till the wound completely disappeared as if never there.

The now healed youth stuck the weapon he held into the ground and felt with his now free hand along the place the wound once was. The skin on his arm was smooth and scar-less as if it was never injured, as if not just moments ago the flesh hung of his arm in tattered ribbons that revealed his white bone. He felt along the other places where he should have had wounds but found them in the same state. This might have been a pleasant surprise but it was a surprise that only furthered his frustrated confusion of the predicament he was in.

“Confused.”

The brunette’s eyes shot up to see the same embellished and horned skeleton as before. It stood at a bit of a distance away from the stunned youth yet close enough for its steady voice to be heard. A weariness washed over him as he slowly reached down to pick up the dagger once more. His eyes never left the skeleton’s, as the pray never takes the risk of looking away from its predator when cornered.

“Haha…put dat der thing away. You ain’t goin’ be able te hurt me with it.”

The skeleton’s words dripped with amusement that immediately raised the brunette’s hackles. A contemptuous growl rumbled deep in his chest. A warning. His grip on the blade tightened. The youth may have been paralyzed with fear before and he would be lying if he said he was not terrified of this giant but he had had enough. He had had enough of this place and its monstrosities.

“Ow, you don’t like it when I laugh at ya, do ya?”

The damned creature began to laugh loudly as if it found the youth’s every action hilarious. Said youth grinded his teeth and fought off the urge to attack the giant. He knew he would not survive a fight with this giant. He could feel it deep down; a primal instinct to surrender to a superior. He could not give into his urges though. He needed to fight, needed to survive. He could not trust that this thing would not try to kill him.

“I’ll warn ya once not to try and run or attack me.”

This creature’s uncanny ability to read and answer the youths thought frightened him to the core. Never the lest he obeyed the creature. He felt that if he listed to the skeleton he would survive longer for it.

“Ya so tense! Loosen up lad!” It laughed as it put its bony hands on its hips. It was strange how its flesh-less jaw moved as it laughed. “I told ya this before lady; I ain’t gonna hurt you. Why would I give ya dat der toothpick if I was goin’ te kill you?” It waved its hand lazily in a gesture towards the dagger.

That question took the bloodstained youth by surprise. The hostility in him began to fade and be replaced by curiosity. He let the blade down slightly as he began to study the skeletons face, or well, skull. The expressionless skull gave him no indication to what the creature might be thinking about.

“Why did you leave this weapon here for me.” His voice was hoarse from not using it often and it was quiet and cautious. The question provoked an affronted scoff from the skeleton as if it believed the question to be retarded.

“Why, if I didn’t leave dat toothpick vir ya, then ya’d be dead.” 

The Skeleton began to slowly stroll around the area of bones left by the struggle the bloodstained youth had with those monstrosities. Said youth watched it carefully and closely. It said it would not hurt him and so far it had done nothing harmful too him and had actually helped him with acquiring a weapon to defend himself with. Though it could have warned him about those screeching horrors and its mysterious behavior set him on edge. It was better to be cautious.

“Ya handled yourself well I see.” It came to a stop by a pile of bones near where the youth stood. It glanced at the pile of bones before it fixed its crimson gaze on him. Its red glowing eyes stared the brunette down. Its intense sight made him very uncomfortable, as if the creature was contemplating whether to kill him or not.

“Suppose ya earned ya keep, for now.”

Before the youth had the chance to ask the creature what it meant, dark mist seeped out of its bones. The mist enveloped the skeleton in a thick blanket that hid it completely from sight. All but its red glowing eyes were hidden from the youth’s sight. The red dots glowed brighter before they flickered like a flame in the wind and then went out completely.

The brunette squinted as he took a hesitant step forward. He tried to make out the figure in the dark mist but had no luck besides the darkened silhouette of what he assumed was still the skeleton. The silhouette began to shrink however to a more human like shape. The mist began to dissipate and he was finally able to see what had happened to the skeleton.

In the place of the skeleton stood a man. A large and tall man with balked muscle that pulsed with power. His upper body bare to reveal a plain of skin littered with jagged scars and swirled tattoos. The tattoos resembled the patterns he saw carved into the skeleton’s bones.

The youth’s eyes traveled up this intimidating man’s body to his face. A salt and pepper bearded face with a balled, scared head. The man’s face was aged with many decades of ware and tare. A scar cut through the brig of his of his strong nose, another through his cheek and eyebrow. The largest scar past through his left eye, that was covered with a black leather eye-patch. The scar extended around his balled head to the back. The man’s visible eye was a crystal clear blue that seemed to be lined with black eyeliner. The man looked human but his pointed elf ears spoke otherwise.

What appeared to be silver or iron cuff bracelets with purple crystals stoned into them were wrapped around his wrists. His dark leather, knee-high combat-boots were steel tipped with iron spikes and iron leg guards. His black pants were form fitting and appeared to be leather and were held up with a black leather bridle. The bridle wrapped around his waist and slang around his left shoulder. To his left hip appeared to be a dagger holster that was empty and to his right hip a holster with a dagger handle sticking out if it that looked exactly like the one in his hand. From where he could see, there was a massive two-handed great sward strapped to the man’s back. This man or manlike creature resembled a gypsy-pirate, given the eye-patch, beard and armed appearance.

The bloodstained youth suddenly remembered that he was naked and in the presents of a half bare man. How did he not realize this sooner? Was it because he was more focused on being confused and being attacked by monsters or was it because he was now seeing a very well built and attractive body before him. He felt his neck and cheeks heat up as he realized he was attracted to this man’s body. He consciously tried to cover his bare lower areas with the dagger and tried to ignore the rush of blood to his member.

To the boys utter horror the man seemed to know that he was slightly aroused and smirked at him. The man held out his hand before himself and mist seemed to seep out of his palm. The mist expanded up his arm and around his torso to cover his whole upper body before it dissipated. In its place was left a black tank top that did not do much to hide the man’s muscle definition.

“Better?”

“Fuck you…”

That seemed to be very funny for the tattooed man as he began to laugh hardily. The boy frowned in confusion as he had not expected that response from the man. Then he registered the implications of his rash words and he instantly felt his stomach drop and his face set on fire. “I didn’t- “

“Relax boy. I don’t go vir wet behind the ears toddlers.”

The youth’s embarrassment was forgotten quickly and replaced by his irritation at the man’s words. He opened his mouth to throw a rude curse at the tattooed man but shut his mouth quickly when thought that his comment might lead to his further embarrassment. The man watched him the whole time with an amused smirk smeared across his bearded face.

The man held out his hand once more and mist seeped out of it in wafts. This time the mist moved in slow puffs towards the naked youth. Said youth took a step back and raised the blade in his hand as he watched the mist wearily. He looked up at the man with a silent demand that he explains what he is doing.

“Don’t ya want some clothes?”

The youth wanted to ask him where he was going to get clothes, when he remembered that he had just watched this tattooed man magically change, from a three-meter-tall skeleton to a two-meter-tall human like man with elf-ears, and make a shirt appear out of mist.

So, he let the dagger drop and stiffly waited for the mist to reach him. Said mist slowly circled him and began to creep up his leg. The mist felt cold and strangely damp like he was being brushed with wet cotton. He tried not to blush as it covered his privets and seep up his torso. It covered his whole body and when it covered his face he panicked. He felt as if he was submerged in cold water but the feeling only lasted for a moment before the mist disappeared.

He looked down his body to find himself dressed with tight yet oddly flexible black jeans and a dark grey, long-sleeved V-neck that hugged his body perfectly. He as well wore a similar pare of combat boots as the tattooed man. Strapped around his waist and back was what appeared to be a holster for, what he assumed, was for the weapon he held.

“There ya go! Now dat ya’re all dressed and ready, put dat toothpick in its holster and follow me.” The tattooed man gesture excitedly for the youth to follow him. Said youth stayed rooted where he was as he continued to wearily stare at the man.

“Thank you for helping me but I’m sorry to tell you that I still don’t trust you.”

The man’s grin fell from its place as he dropped his gesturing hand back to his side. He went quite fore a moment with an odd look on his face. He did not look mad or vengeful to the youth’s relief. He looked like he might be contemplating something very imported if that intense look in his eye said anything as he stared off into the distance.

“Suppose it’s only fair I tell ya a little more.” The man looked back to the youth with a wicked glint in his blue eye and a crooked smile. “Let me start with who I am. I’m Refr Fylgja and from here on out ya are my ward.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos motivate me. Please feed my soul. And don't forget to kudo if you like.❤


	3. Sváfnir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LIght gets a new name and a new goal. Rafr acts doggy as fuck.

** Chapter 3: Sváfnir  **

* * *

_“If you forgive the fox for stealing your chickens, he will take your sheep_ **.”**

\- Georgian Proverb

* * *

“Fylgja? As in the old Norse mythology. The spirit animals that acted as guides to their charges?”

_Wait. Why could he remember that but not his own name?_

He could feel the hot sizzle of anger bubble under his skin. Frustration clawed at his mind; tried to grasp at the forgotten memories he so desperately sought. He felt wronged, but he couldn’t remember why, and that infuriated him.

“Why yes. In those times my kin and I would sometimes guide the mortals we took a liking to.” For a moment Rafr looked surprised by the youth’s knowledge, but it quickly disappeared and was replaced with a wolf grin. “We ain’t spirit animals. We are spirits that take on the attributes of animals, and we weren't always guides. Most the time we just fooled around."

“Fooled around?” The youth asked with a quirk of his brow.

The grin the pirate-man wore grew only larger with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. He took the last few steps forward that separated the man from the boy. The youth could not help but take a rushed step back, with wide panicked eyes, but was stopped with a large, heavy hand on his shoulder. The hold on his shoulder held him in place yet the force and size of the man before him almost knocked him off his feet. The bearded man's face was inches from his and he could smell the pungent scent of a raw spicy plant on his breath. Pepper? Or maybe chilies?

“Let us just say that humans can be amusing.” Just as fast as the bearded man had come, he stepped back from the stunned youth to stand at his full height. His shadow eclipsed the boy as the man stood tall.

“A-ah ya.” The youth had to crane his neck back painfully to look the man in the eye. He felt claustrophobic by the close proximity of this beast of a man. It did not help his stuttered heart that he was almost pressed against the man’s solid abs. So he took a step back and hopped that Rafr did not notice the blush on his cheeks. However, to what he assumed was the doing of his bad luck that seemed to increase. Rafr noticed. The man leaned down, and in a bodily impossibly way his grin grew. Sharp inhuman teeth glinted

"What's wrong, lad?"

“Do you know why I’m here?!” The youth blurted out to draw the man’s attention to a more important topic. The man’s grin dropped slightly as he stepped back and hooked his hands in his belt.

“Ya don't remember? Well, it's te be expected and all.” Rafr’s words only confused him further and he showed this shamelessly by giving the man a strange look. “Suppose ya want a better explanation. Well te start I already told ya that this place is Purgatory,” He swept his arms out wide to gesture at the dead world around him. “and ya only come here if ya dead.”

“ _Dead_?!”

* * *

**_The figure growled deeply in outrage and the boy’s brief victory was short-lived as a sharp object shredded through his throat. His body went rigged with shock. His mind blank. Time seemed to slow down, and then ricochet back into dreaded reality._ **

**_Hot tears poured down his paled cheeks in rivers as he numbly grabbed at the figure above with his free hand. Salty tears mingled with glistened blood. It crept abundantly down the sides of his throat. The hot crimson liquid filled his mouth and trapped fear-filled screams in gurgled bubbles._ **

**_The black of night glittered before it turned pitch black. The figure disappeared into the darkness; only it's wicked teeth that gleamed could be seen vaguely as his body numbed to all. His hand fell from its hold on the figure to lie motionlessly beside his head. Coldness clutched around his heart and steadily slowed its rapid beats to stillness._ **

**_Then his lungs relaxed to release the final breath that plunged him into darkness._ **

****

* * *

****

The boy stumbled back as he grabbed at his chest. The memory provoked a sharp pain in his chest as if his heart was being dugout by rusty, twisted knives.

“Memories? Their te come and go. It’s commonplace.”

“What do you mean?” The youth wheezed as he stabbed the blade into the ground and leaned on it for support. He felt as if there was some sort of unseen force that was trying to ripe his heart out and devour it.

"Well, when a person dies and becomes a spirit. The spirit can sometimes lose their memory. The memories can come back now and again, but they usually stay forgotten; as their life before no longer matters. Though, it only really affects those who have suffered pain during their death."

"Then why did you help me?" He could feel the frown creased at his brow, the headache that threatened to split his skull begin to rear its head, and the curl of his gut as it threatened to expel its content. "If I'm…" He had to take a moment to calm himself as the very thought of what he was about to say made him sick. "If I'm already dead. Then why were you worried that those monsters would kill me?"

He waited and stared at the man before him with utter suspicion that laced every fiber of his been. As he dared the man with a single look to cut the bullshit out. Hoped that this was all a joke. An elaborate prank or a bad dream. That perhaps his subconscious was making this all up in an elaborate nightmare before it would wake him to reality. He hoped…

The sudden look of pure, sincere pity that filled the man’s features destroyed any hope that the youth had. He couldn't look at that single blue eye. Couldn't look at the pity the man had for him. At the way the man's entire demeanor screamed _sorry_. So he looked to the ground, at his feet, where the skull of a monster lay. He studied its dead features as he listened to the man's answer.

“It’s called the afterlife for a reason, boy.” He heard a shuffle but refused to look up as dread slowly crept into his heart. “It’s not the same as bein’ alive, with flesh and bone and whatnot; but if ya die in the afterlife…” He heard another shuffle and watched the shadow that cast over him and the skull move as he could feel the man move closer to him. He said nothing. Did nothing as he felt a gentle large hand lay on his shoulder. “There’s nothin’ after the afterlife. If ya spirit die. Then ya gone forever.”

The youth looked up then; looked up at the muscled man that towered over him. He looked at the contemplative frown that twisted the man’s features as he glared at him with utter hatred.

“You should have left me at the mercy of those monsters.”

The man’s eyes widened with shock and his gripe on the youth’s shoulder tightened almost painfully. The youth felt then, that he made an awful mistake by voicing his thoughts as he watched the man’s features twist in anger. He tried to move away as fear for bodily harm filled him but the man’s hand kept him rooted where he stood. A humorless smirk spread across the man’s face as he leaned down close to the boy’s face. This close the youth could see the double set of long, sharp fangs in the man’s smile. The smile of a predator that isn’t happy with his pray.

“Maybe I should have…” The man growled out. The animalistic sounds rumbled in his chest and set the hairs at the back of the boy’s neck on end. He could feel the pure malice that pored off of the man in waves and it suffocated him. It stole his breath and petrified him where he stood. “But that wouldn’t be any fun.” The man left the boy’s personal space just like that and with a sing-song tone to his voice told him to follow as he walked off.

He stood stunned for a second as he watched the beast of a man walk off to lord knows where. He wanted to tell the man to _fuck off_. That he wasn’t a dog that would follow if he said “Come, boy.” just like that. Then he realized that he was in a strange place with no recollection of who he is or where he came from. A dangerous place that he had barely survived thus far. He had no clue how things work here or how things worked for him now that he was what he was. This man was his best bet. So, he begrudgingly followed behind the man.

“Where are you leading me?”

“Ya will see.”

He waited for the man to say more but he didn’t. He found that the frustration returned to bubble under his skin with his resentment. He watched a set of gigantic bones pass by as they walked before he spoke again.

“Are you going to harm me?”

The man glanced back at the boy with an irritated look before he looked away. They walked on a few more passes before he answered, “I already told ya boy that I’m not gonna hurt ya.” He said with a clipped tone as he stepped over a large rock that the boy had to climb over.

The boy huffed as he jumped down from the large rock. He looked at Rafr's tense and bunched up back muscles and wondered why the man was suddenly in a bad mood. Then he realized, as he watched the man’s stiff and angered steps for a moment, that he was angry at him. Was he mad that he was not more grateful for the strange way that the man had assisted him in surviving thus far? It seemed like it. He considered the way the man’s toon changed immediately after he told him off. This man may be very vague and mysterious but he had done nothing but help him so far.

 _‘I probably shouldn’t have told him that he should have left me…’_ He thought guiltily as he swallowed the knot that had begun to form in his throat. He looked down at the gray sand that passed by the man’s feet. His eyes locked onto what looked like a skeletal arm that stuck out of the ground as it reached out to the sky. An eerie frozen sight his eyes stayed on as long as possible as he passed by. He looked back at the man's back once the arm was out of sight and licked his lips nervously as he contemplated his next words.

“I’m sorry.”

The man made no indication, but the slight twitch of his shoulder blades, that he had heard the boy's soft words. The boy felt the knot in his throat grow as the guilt in his chest spread as Rafr ignored him.

They walked on for a bit; passed large rocks and bones alike while the man stayed silent and the boy’s anxieties ate at him before finally, the man spoke. His shoulders seemed to relax as he sighed out his words.

“So, what ya goanna call yaself?”

They had both been quiet for so long, with the boy wallowing in his own worried thoughts, that when that Rafr broke that tense silence, it left the boy thoughtless for a moment. The boy stumbled over his next step as he stuttered out his next words. Relief washed over him as he realized that it seemed Rafr wasn't mad at him anymore.

“C-call myself? You mean I have to name myself?”

The man laughed as he looked down at the boy who had just stumbled his way next to him. "Well, I can't keep callin’ ya _boy_ now can I?” He made a vague, waved gesture at the dead land before them. “We goanna be spendin’ some time together if the fates have it. So I gotta refer te ya as somethin’ else besides _boy_. Besides, I doubt ya remember your name from before.”

The boy looked down to the ground as he thought to himself. He had no recollection of his past life and didn't know what his name was. He didn't even know enough about himself to come up with a name that fit him. With a weight of lose on his mind, he looked up at Rafr. "I'm not sure. Do you have a suggestion?"

He watched the man look up at the darkened sky for a few moments as it seemed like he was mulling over the boy’s question. His single eye seemed to light up excitedly as he stopped his walk and looked down at the boy once again.

“Sváfnir!" He exclaimed with a pleased smile, hands on his hips, and chest puffed out.

"The fuck does that mean?" The boy mindlessly blurted out as he stopped two passes father than Rafr. He watched as the man's smile dropped and a frown replaced it. He looked at the boy as if he was just insulted as he explained.

“It means slayer. Thought ya might know what it means since ya knew about the folk law about my kin.”

For some reason, the boy felt utter shame at the fact he didn't know the meaning of the word. As if the mere thought of lesser intelligence repulsed him; and he didn't know why. He didn't know why having his knowledge questioned irked him. He brushed his irked thoughts away as he addressed the man.

“Why Sváfnir?”

Rafr's smile returned as a sneer as begun his walk once more. The boy followed him in pace as he waited for a response. The man seemed to have a satisfied gleam in his eye as he looked over the barren desert-like land they had at some point entered. The boy looked at the land before him in slight confusion before he glanced over his shoulder to see in the distance a mass of rocks and bones. _When had they walked so far?_

“Well...” The man spoke out and brought the youth’s attention back to him and once he saw the boy’s amber eyes back on him he continued on. “I watched the way ya slew those beasties. Surprised me a bit there, but not too much.” Rafr looked off with a distant glint in his eyes as if he recalled an old memory. “We live many lives in the world of the liven before the fates decide to spit us out and into the afterlife. In the afterlife skills that ya required over ya, many lives, start te come into play. Don’t know why, but that’s how it works.”

The boy wondered what he must have been in his past lives. At some point, he must have been savvy with a blade. Memories of history lessons flashed through his mind. A great many wars fought in human history and a great many deaths left in its wake.

_History. He remembered history, but not his own name._

He felt a bitter taste form in his mouth and a dark hole eat its way through his chest. He felt robbed and he was infuriated by it.

“Sváfnir it is.”

Rafr seemed pleased with himself that the boy accepted his new name as he patted him roughly on his back. The force of it nearly sent Sváfnir flying but he balanced himself before he could. “Well, Sváfnir its nice te meet ya!”

Sváfnir. _Sváfnir_. He liked the sound of it. Slayer. That’s what he would become. Rafr said that it was usually only those who died painful deaths that forgot their lives before. Sváfnir felt wronged and he had a suspicion deep in his bones that he was. He must have been killed. Must have had his life taken wrongly from him for him to end up here in Purgatory. He would become a slayer. He would find the bastard that wronged him and slay them like the dog they are.

“Hey, we’re getting’ close.” Rafr lightly nudged him on the shoulder to get his attention and it snapped him out of his malicious thoughts. He looked up at Rafr to see him point at something in front of them. He followed the man's gesture to see that up ahead of them in the far distanced seemed to be what looked like a large dark structure.

“What is that?”

“That’s death kingdom. Home to the reapers and the Death King himself”

Sváfnir's steps stuttered to a halt as he looked from the dark fortress in the distance back to the grinning pirate man that had stopped before him. Death King. Reapers. Those things existed. Then again he felt like an idiot for doubting this since had witnessed first had a giant horned skeleton turn into a large tattooed man. He had witnessed horror creatures' strait out of nightmares attack him. Who was he to doubt the existence of these folk law legends when he, himself was now a spirit.

“Need to introduce ya to the Death King and see if he wants te have ya become a reaper like me.”

Rafr was a reaper? That would explain a lot. Sváfnir looked up at the man a few passes before him in a new light. Shinigami in human myths and folk laws have always been showered in mystery and fear filled words.

Fear.

There is a reason that the thought of real Grim Reapers strikes fear into the hearts of men. Gods that can control death, take life when they please or take it because they have too. Sváfnir doubts the legends of these creatures are accurate but even so, his seen Rafr. He might not have seen him fight but he would be a fool to ignore the power that radiates off the reaper. With power comes the ability to control fear in others. If Sváfnir could get the same power, he could not only survive in this land but thrive; and he could possibly find out about his own death.

Then the thought occurred to him. Rafr was a shinigami, a death god, reaper. Wouldn’t Rafr already know how he dead? If so, that would explain how he found Sváfnir so fast but not why he was bothering with him.

“Rafr?”

The large reaper turned to him with sing-song hum, arching a brow at the boy in a questioning manner.

“Why do you want me to be a reaper?” A glint appeared in Rafr’s single blue eye that set the hairs at the back of Sváfnir’s neck on end. The reaper smiled at him, wide and toothy, and dripping with sincerity so thick that it made his stomach turn with nausea. The reaper tilted his head to the side as he spread his arms out wide as if he was gesturing to all around him. His smile still full, and his eye still gleaming.

“I find ya interesting.” His arms dropped and his smile turned into a viscous grin, “And that’s all to it.” The man didn’t wait for him to process this new information or for him to ask any further questions as he turned and walked to the gigantic iron gates that had at some point appeared before them.

Sváfnir startled at the new sight before him. He stumbled back, eyes wide in shock and disbelief as he stared up at the towering dark walls that loomed over him.

_That was definitely not there a moment ago…_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally planed this chapter to be double the length but I decided against it. I wanted to introduce some new OCs and finally bring Ryuk into the story but I feel this chapter was already taking me far too long, and I thought y'all would like an update on if I'm still alive and typing. Its the holidays soon so I'll finally have time to work on my fanfictions without University breathing down my neck. No promises on frequent updates though. 
> 
> I already have a solid plot laid out for this fic but your comments and and guesses might influence it. So comment and tell me what you think.
> 
> Don't forget to kudo if you like.❤
> 
> Hope all you lovely people are doing good.❤


	4. Ryuk and Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sváfnir gets tossed around a bit like a rag doll and gets side eyes by the creepy occupants of Niffelheim. He learns a little more about Rafr and comes to a disterbing realization.

Chapter 4: Ryuk and Keith

* * *

“We don't meet anyone by chance.”

― Avijeet Das

* * *

He wanted to ask Rafr more questions. Demand he answered them. He could feel that there was something that the reaper was not telling him, something crucial; but the strange spirit was already off walking large confident strides towards the giant gates that had appeared before them. _‘Spirit. I guess that’s what I am now...’_

“Jeff!” Rafr bellowed as he came to a stop. His loud, baritone voice sent shivers down Sváfnir’s spine. The sure and commanding tone in Rafr’s for some reason set his nerves on end. He couldn’t pin where this feeling came from or why he felt it but it made him nauseas.

He shifted uneasily as he scratched at his neck. He cast his gaze to the ground, not liking how helpless he felt, and how dependent he was on this spirit he barely even knew.

_‘His bean helping me so far though…’_

Sváfnir looked back at Rafr and watched the balky spirit wave his hand lazily as he yelled something in a foreign language to seemingly no one.

He frowned at this and was about to ask who the reaper was talking to when he heard and irritated shout in response to Rafr’s words, assumedly.

“Fuck off Rafr!” Sváfnir’s felt his brows rise in curiosity as his eyes drifted away from Rafr and to the direction the voice had come from; his previous uneasy thoughts forgotten for the time being.

High above them, so high he had to crane his head up a bit to see was what looked like a wide window built into the tall dark walls before him. Now that he looked at the impossibly tall, stone walls properly, he could see a long line of these large, built in window like holes all along the length of the wall _. ‘Look out points? It must be.’_ The wall was far too tall for look outs at the top to be much help at spotting out details on the ground, and these look out windows seem to be high enough that those looking out would be relatively safe from attack.

The man that had told Rafr off leaned dangerously out the window to flip the reaper off, and seemed to spit at him for good measure. Though at this height his floods would drift off their target considerably and miss. Sváfnir wrinkled his nose at the vulgar spirit and squinted his eyes to get a better look at him. He seemed to look like a large, ruff looking spirit with an equally large and ruff beard. He appeared to be wearing rusted armour, but that could just be the colour of the armour and not rust. Sváfnir continued to sneer at the man distastefully as he slowly shuffled to stand more behind Rafr.

“Now Timothy, that’s no way too great a friend!” Rafr yelled back at _Timothy_ with glee lased in his voice. Said spirit shouted a few more crude insults as he shook his fist at them. Something about Rafr fooling around with his sister too much and owing him money? Sváfnir looked at the back of the tattooed head before him, and not for the first time since he woke up in this strange place, wondered if he should have followed this reaper that appeared to have questionable morals.

“Look!” Rafr reached out behind him to grab Sváfnir by the shoulder and drag the startled spirit into his side. He thought he might almost trip and fall over but with Rafr’s strong grip around his shoulders, the reaper had him pinned to his side in one fluid motion. Sváfnir’s toes barely touched the ground as he was crushed into a muscular side. A strong stench of plant spice hit him hard. He wrinkled his nose and tried to push his head away from the hairy armpit it was being shoved into “Look what I brought for Death!”

Sváfnir desperately tried to push away from Rafr but the spirit was easily three times his size and pure muscle. Trying to pry the reaper’s arm off from around his shoulders felt like trying to bend iron. He groaned in pure frustration as he tried to claw off the hand that had begun to pat at his chest like a prized possession. His frustrated noises stuttered and hiccupped as the large hand continued to lazily pat at his chest. The force of the pats sent vibrations deep into his chest and shook the rest of his body like a rag doll. Rafr none the wiser it seemed to the small spirits irritation as he continued to shout at the guard in bits of English and a foreign language. Sváfnir couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to their conversation as he tried to not breath in the heady sent of spice that made him dizzy.

All of a sudden there was a loud screech of iron against stone and Rafr immediately let go of him and walked on like he had not just almost crushed him into his side and shook him like a doll. Sváfnir gracelessly fell down on his rear and glared daggers at the back of Rafr’s head. Silently he hoped he had some sort of supernatural power that he didn’t know about that could kill things with him just looking at them; but no power manifested and he was left to just watch as the large spirit sauntered over to the grand gate before them. The gate made a hell of a noise as it lifted off the ground. Giant unseen cogs and contraptions no doubt worked hard to lift the grand, iron slab up.

Sváfnir watched the gate rise; for the first time actually observing it. The huge gate appeared to be a literal slab of iron with an intricately designed pattern of skulls and roses etched into it. The gate was half the length - _‘Maybe fifty feet?_ ’- of the wall and stopped its assent when it aligned with the top. The gates absence revealed further structures and bustling _life._

“Come now Sváfnir!” Rafr was already standing at the open gate, arms crossed and a lazy smirk on his bearded face. Said spirit grumbled to himself as he helped himself off the ground. He dusted his rear and legs before he stiffly walked over to Rafr. The large spirit turned and continued into what appeared to be a bustling market. He rubbed at his sore shoulders as he followed Rafr at a safe distance into the market area.

Decrepit, stone bricks lined the ground with dead weeds that stuck out of cracks in the bricks here and there. The area was wide and long, with tall dark walls that surrounded it. Makeshift shops built from stone and decayed wood lined the walls. Shop-keeps were strange, half decayed men with horns. Their rotted flesh and ragged clothes made Sváfnir uneasy, and he eyed their bone jaws flap as they spoke to equally strange customers. There were quite a few humanoid creatures that walked around and spoke to shop-keeps. Some looked like decade old corpses that were dug out of their graves. Others looked like sharp toothed demons with large horns. Then there were elongated skeletons that walked around taller than the rest, ragged, torn cloths hung off their long bodies and waved to a wind that did not exist. Animal like creatures walked amongst the crowd as well. Some looked like sick, hairless dogs that stood on their hind legs and others looked like a mishmash of animal parts like the mythical creatures in legends and stories. Sváfnir watched a large three foot humanoid dog man with three heads slam his large foot on the ground, cracks appeared under his foot as he shouted at a shop-keep. Next to him stood what looked like a normal human girl dressed like a gypsy with a rifle strapped to her back. Now that Sváfnir paid closer attention to the odd people, there was what looked like humans that walked with the humanoid creatures. ‘ _Or more accurately human spirits?_ ’

“Rafr you peace of _shit_!”

Sváfnir was startled out of his observations as he was forcibly shoved to the side; he was beginning to height physical contact. The ragged looking guard from earlier stomped his way to Rafr as he yelled in that strange language he couldn’t understand. Rafr turned around with his large smile, sharp predatory teeth and all. The guard got right up in Rafr’s face, yelling all the way. The man was surprisingly the same height of Rafr and Sváfnir was surprised that the tall tattooed man didn’t even flinch as spit flew at him.

Sváfnir tried to inch away from the two, not wanting to get involved. But Rafr wasn’t going to let him escape. The reaper turned his vicious grin away from the loud spirit and turned it on him as he said far to cheerily, “Me friend, as much as I would love ta chat with ye, I have more important things te do.” The large muscled spirit proceeded to completely ignore the angry spirit that was now shouting at him that they _“should settle this now”,_ in favour of grabbing Sváfnir by the scruff of his neck to be dragged away. He yelped as he was practically carried like a kitten into the busy crowed of strange people. The angry bearded spirit continued to yell but didn’t follow them.

Rafr ungraciously let go of him when they were a considerable distance away from the large gate they entered. He stumbled when his feet hit the ground and almost collided into a tall skeleton spirit. The skeleton turned its hollow eyes down at him and clicked its jaw as it continued on. He then realized that Rafr had left him in a middle of a crowed of strange creatures and hurried to walk in step with the large reaper.

“What is this place?” Sváfnir stuck to Rafr like glue. The strange creatures and spirits side eyed him as they walked by, most of them close to or larger than the muscled reaper that towered over him by his side. Only every now and then a normal looking human spirit would walk by.

“The capital city of Purgatory. It’s like a hot spot for spirits and other creatures. ”

Sváfnir glanced up at the spirit beside him with a frown that tugged at his brow. “Other creatures?” He eyed one of the tall horned shop-keeps and nauseously watched what looked like a large maggot crawl out of its eye and fall to the ground. What looked like a two headed, humanoid, deer man walked past the shop-keep without a care.

“Aye, there are many creatures out there that can interact with the spiritual realms, like Purgatory.” Rafr garbed him by the shoulder and grinned down at him as they walked into a clearing. “Most of these fuckers would love te corrupt ye and eat ye soul but they won’t dare come up against me.” Sváfnir didn’t know if the reaper was trying to comfort him or threaten him. “And once ye become me protégé and then a reaper they won’t dare defy ye.”

“Protégé?”

Rafr came to a stop and so did Sváfnir with the large hand on his shoulder that forced him to stop as well. Before them was another gate but considerably smaller than the last and it appeared to have to large stone statues standing on either side of it. The statues stood taller than the gate and held giant iron swards before them. They looked much like the shop-keeps but far more skeletal and appeared to be made out of the same dark stone as the walls.

“Aye, ye have to protégé with a reaper that recommends ye to the Death King.” Rafr lifted his hand and folded his arms. He shifted his weight from his left foot to his right as he fully regarded the young spirit before him.

“So reapers aren’t created they get recruited?” Sváfnir watched as Rafr lifted a hand to scratch at his bearded cheek. A contemplated look took over his usually grinning face as he looked up at the grey sky.

“Well I suppose ye could say that.” He waved his hand as he quickly added, “The newer reapers like myself that is. The first reapers were never alive to begin with like you and I” That sent a shiver down the his spine.

_‘Never alive to begin with?’_

Sváfnir looked back at the statue as he felt eyes on him. His stomach sank as saw the statue was now staring at him. ‘ _It was looking straight ahead before wasn’t it?_ ’ The other statue was. He swallowed and tried to focus back on Rafr. The reaper was now gave him a strange look. Rafr glanced at the tall statue and then back at him.

“A lot of ‘em shop-keeps and statues were once the first reapers. Long before humans ever came te be though. They only maintain order in Niflheim. Make sure the nastiest that crawl up from Hell and other places don’t try anythin’.”

“What’s Niflheim in our context?” Sváfnir asked, lessons on Norse mythology and Christian realign flashed at the back of his mind. ‘ _This place is a real mismatch of things.’_

“Why this place of course!” Rafr exclaimed with a grin while he unfolded his arms and gestured widely to their surroundings. “The capital city of Purgatory! Although its name has changed quite a few times. ” Rafr then slapped his hand back on the confused spirits shoulder and shoved him in the direction of the gate. “Enough standin’! We walk to Purge now. Me be thirsty.”

Sváfnir grumbled to himself about how he hated the way the large reaper handles him as he walked on with Rafr; said reaper still didn’t seem to be bothered with his companions irritation and walked with a grin.

He eyed the statue as they walked past it. The huge stone head slowly followed him as he past. A subtle sound of stone grinding against stone perpetuated the motion and a heavy, sick feeling settled in his gut. The other statue didn’t seem bothered by him and continued to look forward and still like a statue should be.

The gate was already opened so they passed through it without Rafr having to be shouted at by a burly looking spirit and behind the second set of walls was what looked like a large bustling city. This area seemed larger than the last and was more cramped with tall brick buildings reminiscent to the brick roads and structures of 18th century Italy. The structures here just as decayed and cracked as what his seen so far. Yet here there was a mist that clung low and thick. Sváfnir look down at his boots and watched as the mist flowed past them as he walked.

“What is the Purge?”

“Me favourite place in all of Niflheim.” Rafr said with a wicked gleam in his eye. Sváfnir didn’t question him any further. The big muscle spirit rarely made any sense and he thought he would begin to understand things better if he just saw them play out before his eyes. So he hummed in response to Rafr and fell silent as he observed where the strange sprit was leading him.

There were many narrow streets and back allies that weaved this way and that like bark on a tree. It was hard to keep track of the many turns they made but he managed. His memory was exhalent it seemed. He only wished it was exhalent enough to remember his past life.

The mist persisted in every street, every ally and every corner; always low to the ground and thick like smoke. It would barley rise as different passer-by’s would go about their business. He had at some point spotted a dog headed man swing a door open and the mist was swept up at the motion before it lazily settled back down. This mist seemed quite unnatural.

_‘A far cry to the weirdness I’ve experienced since I woke in this place…’_

Rafr stayed relatively silent as they walked, not at all bothered by the strange mist and stranger people that lived here. Every now and then he would great a stranger and either they would respond with a grin and a greeting themselves or they would flip the reaper off. One cat-man had gone as far as to try and claw at his throat but Rafr was far larger than him and easily grabbed Sváfnir by the scruff of his neck as he shoved the feline creature away and booked it down a few streets to escape the hissing creature. The folk’s reactions to Rafr here alarmed him to say the least.

“Here we are!” Rafr announced as he dropped Sváfnir. They had stopped at a large dark wood door with a wooden sign above it that read _‘Purge’._ Without further explanation Rafr slammed the door open and walked in with all the confidence of a man that owns the place. Maybe he did, Sváfnir wouldn’t be surprised. He followed the reaper in and closed the door behind him, far gentler than it was opened.

What greeted him inside was not what he had expected. It appeared to be a _bar_. The lanterns that hung off the roof were scattered throughout the large room and lit the area up in a warm orange glow. Long wooden tables littered the area with dead tree stumps that acted as seats for patrons. Off to the left was a long bar that lined the wall. Liquor of all sorts were stacked on the cabernets behind the bar and glistened in the warm light from the lanterns. The atmosphere was filled with the slow drawl of a piano and the low murmur of customers. This looked like the most welcoming place Sváfnir has seen yet. Given that everything still looked aged with decayed but the warm glow of light softened it up a bit, and even the sad tune of the piano was better than nothing.

‘ _Piano.’_

He realized then that the piano was off to the opposite side of the bar on a stage and _no one_ was paying it. The keys pressed down by themselves as if possessed. They probably were.

“Wait Rafr, didn’t you say you wanted me to meet the King?” Said spirit was already halfway to the bar and out of earshot to hear his question. A heavy sigh left the young spirits chest as he followed his companion and stood by his side at the bar.

Rafr slammed a heavy hand on the dark wood surface and demanded the barkeeps attention. Sváfnir flinched at the loud noise and peeked behind him to see if anyone else was bothered by the loud reaper. None of the patrons even bothered to glance their way and he felt a bit relieved.

The barkeep soon came and he or it looked similar to the shop-keeps he had seen. A dry boned corpse, with what little flesh on its bones cracked and leathery. The barkeeps horns were different from the rest. Long and sharp with the tip splitting in two, with the bottom split curling down and forward, and the top split curling straight up. The barkeeps dark hollow sockets were lit with twin white lights. The clothes that hang off large bones looked like a dusty black suit. The barkeep was tall, far taller than Rafr and it slouched down with bad posture. Its teeth sharp and white, and _long,_ was set in a frown. The horned barkeep didn’t speak as it stared down at Rafr with its eere white lights.

Rafr grinned up at the tall skeleton like he was looking at an old friend. He leaned forward on the bar and hit it with his open palm as he said, “Two ciders, ye know me liking.” The skeletal barkeep remained silent as it lazily lifted its long arm and slowly turned to grab two bottles off one of the lower cabinets. Its long, bony fingers easily wrapped around both bottles in one hand. The barkeep turned back to them without a rush and gently set the bottles down before them and went back to standing creepily silent behind the bar.

Rafr grabbed both bottles and ushered Sváfnir deeper into the pub. He was lead directly to a table at the very back, a table nestled in a corner away from most of the other tables. The table wasn’t empty though. There sate two human looking spirits. One far larger than the other and appeared to be the same height as Rafr, though it was hard to tell with his lanky body slouched at the table. Both had dark hair and they were both dressed in leather jackets. One looked like he was wearing a full body leather, skin tight suite and the other appeared to be covered in bandages from head to toe.

As soon as they reach the table Rafr greeted the larger spirit with a bear hug. The other spirit however didn’t seem too happy with being yanked off his seat and having his lanky body crushed against the muscled spirit.

“Ryuk me friend, and ye have Keith with you!”

Who he assumed was Keith, the much smaller spirit, switched seats in order, it seemed, to put distance between himself and Rafr. Up close he could see that the only part of Keith’s body that wasn’t covered in bandages was his mouth and the top of his head. He blindly searched for the next seat and shifted to that one when Rafr let go of Ryuk and seemed to make a move to approach him. This didn’t perturb Rafr as he stomped over to the stumbling blind spirit to pick him up in a hug.

“Rafr, put me down!” To Sváfnir’s surprise the bulky reaper did so, _gently_. As if this Keith was a fragile thing to be protected, Rafr placed him down on a seat and sat next to him with an arm around the much smaller spirit’s shoulder.

 _‘Why has he been handling me and everyone else like a rag doll but not this guy?’_ Sváfnir thought in irritation. His shoulders were still sore and his neck was scratched raw from where his shirt cut into it every time Rafr picked him up like a kitten.

The spirit under Rafr’s arm looked very nervous though and had bowed his head. His bandaged fingers had begun to fiddle with his half empty glass of clear brown liquid and the cracks in the dark wood table. He didn’t seem to be comfortable with his proximity to Rafr at all.

“And look who I brought!” Rafr cheered happily as he put the bottles he had carried down on the table. “Come. Sit, Sváfnir.” He hesitantly followed the reapers command and sat next to the tall lanky man that had returned to his seat after Rafr’s attention had shifted. “This is Sváfnir, Sváfnir that is Ryuk,” Ryuk leaned forward and wiggled his eyebrows at him as a vicious grin that easily rivalled Rafr’s split his dark lips. “And this is Keith.” Keith didn’t make a move or look up to great Sváfnir but he doubted the bandaged man could see through the thick layer of cloth that covered his eyes. “They are reapers like me.”

That would explain Rafr’s friendliness to these strange men and their strangeness to begin with. Not that everything that Sváfnir has come across was not strange just that it seemed that these reapers were unique in their strangeness.

“Pleasure to meet you.”Rafr seemed positively offended at his words, he cocked a brow at the spirit's sudden irritation. A silent question to ask what he had said wrong.

“Ye didn’t act so friendly with me when we met not too long ago.” Rafr popped the caps off the bottles with long sharp nails and slid one to him.

“You introduced yourself as a giant horned beast after I was attacked by those monsters.” He eyed the bottle that he was given with scepticism. Not trusting what this mad man would consider drinkable. “Sorry if I was a bit _untrusting_.”.

_‘Still am to be honest with myself._ ’

Rafr grumbled something under his breath but his smirk soon returned, “Drink your bear, boy.” The reaper took a long swig of his own drink to emphasise his point it seemed.

Sváfnir looked down at the large unmarked bottle that sat innocently before him and hesitantly picked it up by its neck. He sniffed the contents, a bitter smell filled his nose and he sneered down at the bottle. He took one last glance at Rafr before he sipped at the bitter drink. He coughed and spluttered at the third sip.

Rafr and Ryuk erupted into a fit of evil cackles at his expense. He glared at them as he tried to control his coughing fit and pushed the bitter cider away from him with a groan.

“I’m not drinking that. That taste like its bean through the bowels of some sort of creature. ”

“But it gets ye plastered fast.” Rafr quipped as he finished his drink and reached over the table for Sváfnir’s. “Go to old Sully over yonder and ask ‘em for something sweet.” He sat back in his seat as he leaned against the wall. A lazy grin on his lips and his arm still slung over a nervous Keith. “Maybe that will suit your pansy tastes; and ask ‘em for two more of me favourite cider.”

Sváfnir forced down a growl from erupting in his chest as Rafr so casually and rudely ordered him around. He reminded himself that he was still new to this place and he had no idea of what this reaper was capable of. He settled himself for subdued anger and a glare thrown Rafr’s way as he stood without a word and stalked over to the bar, where he presumed this Sully was the barkeep.

He waited for the tall creature to serve another patron before he stepped up to the bar with a nervous smile.

“Um hi. Sully right?” The towering skeleton looked down at him and slowly shook its head up and down. Dried flesh that hung off of its horns and skull slowly swayed at the gesture and Sváfnir tried not to gag at how casually gruesome everything here in Niflheim was. “Right. Rafr said he wanted two more of those ciders he got and…” and he paused to briefly look over all the liqueurs that lined the shelves behind Sully. He felt overwhelmed for a second, not really knowing what his tastes in alcohol would be. He felt the always present anger in him rise a bit as he thought he might have had a taste for this in his previous life. “What would you recommend to someone who doesn’t have any experience in drinking?”

Sully seemed to pause at his words and for a seconded Sváfnir thought the barkeep might refuse his order. Panic rose in him as if he was about to get caught doing something he shouldn’t. A long moment later and Sully slowly move to grab two bottles of Rafr’s cider. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he leaned against the bar with an elbow propped up on it. He watched as Sully placed the bottles on a tray and then proceeded to fetch the ingredients of what he assumed would be the skeletons recommend drink.

The resulting drink was a concoction of what seemed to be clear liquor mixed with a red liquid and a thick brown syrup in a tall glass. Sully gently placed the drink on the tray and stood back.

“Thanks.” Sváfnir wasn’t sure how currency worked in the afterlife or if there was a system such as that here at all. After a moment of just standing there and nervously looking at the slouching skeleton he took the tray and glanced once more at Sully before he hesitantly stepped away from the bar and made his way back to the table; where Rafr was loudly spouting out the tale of how he met Sváfnir.

Rafr grabbed one of the bottles the moment he placed the tray on the table. He popped the lid open as he spluttered out, “Ye should have seen the way this boy was blushin’ when he realized he was naked!” Sváfnir immediately ducked his head to the side and tried to hide his blush with a hand as he sat down.

“Don’t be shy.” Ryuk cackled in his ear and caused his blush to deepen. He glanced at Ryuk and then at Rafr with a glare. They seem far too pleased with themselves for his liking.

“I was a bit too busy trying not to be ripped to shreds.” He grumbled to himself as he picked up his tall glass of dark, crimson liquid. He sniffed it, it smelled sweet like apples. He risked a sip and was pleased to find it tasted like apples with the underlining taste of alcohol and brown sugar.

“That drink there is called Red Devil. I’d sip that slowly if I was you.” Sváfnir was startled to hear Keith’s suggestion. He looked over at the bandaged man that seemed to be constantly nervous as he scratched lines into the table. He wondered how he knew what drink he had gotten but Keith quickly tagged on his answer before Sváfnir could ask. “The smell. My sense of smell is very strong.”

“Keith over here is a real blood hound. We use him to track down demons and other spirits.” Ryuk supplied with a tip of his glass over to said reaper before he took a long swig of his own dark brown drink.

“Why would you need to do that?” He had directed the question to Keith but Rafr answered in his stead.

“We reapers are like the policemen of the afterlife. If ye are a spirit that breaks the law, ye are classified as a demon. We need to hunt down demons and kill ‘em so they don’t fuck around where they shouldn’t be fuckin’ around.” After his explanation he down the rest of his drink and put his bottle down next to three identical bottles. Sváfnir frowned as he wondered when the large man had finished all the drinks he had only brought to the table a few moments prior.

“Do you protect spirits as well? Is that why you came and gave me assistance?”

“Yip” Rafr chose that moment to loudly burp and giggle at his own disgusting behaviour. “ But anyway, ye can ask Ryuk and Keith here anymore questions while I’m gone.” Rafr stood from his seat and stumbled around the table to roughly pat Sváfnir on the shoulder. “See ye, kid.”

Panic rose in him as he suddenly realized he had relied on Rafr for protection and even though he hardly trusted the reaper, he was the most familiar person to him in Purgatory. So when he croaked out the squeaky question he didn’t even blush at how desperate he sounded. “Wait, where are you going?” He grabbed the large spirit by his meaty wrist to stop him from stumbling away.

“Relax, kid.” He slurred has he ruffled Sváfnir’s brown locks. “I’ve already asked Ryuk and Keith to watch over ye while I’m gone. I’m just goanna go see a few people to arrange a meeting with the King.”

“While drunk.” This statement sent Ryuk into a fit of giggles as he muttered to himself about Rafr being an alcoholic. Sváfnir frowned; he definitely didn’t find that funny.

“Relax, kid.” Rafr grumbled under his breath as he started to walk away. He watched the reaper stumble out of the pub door then turned to a still cackling Ryuk.

“Is he really going to request an audience with the King while drunk?”

“That’s Rafr for you.” Keith said before he finished off his drink. The bandaged spirit seemed visibly more relaxed and far less nervous now that Rafr was gone. He wondered what that might be about. “Ryuk why don’t you go get us another drink.”

Ryuk stopped his cackling to grumble under his breath, “I’m doing this because I won’t another drink not because you told me to.” He stood and garbed both his and Keith’s glasses before he sauntered over to Sully.

Sváfnir startled slightly as he felt a bandaged had wrap around his. He looked over to Keith who had leaned over the table to whisper to him in a rushed desperation. “You can’t trust Rafr and Ryuk. Ryuk’s not as bad as Rafr, but he would still stand by and watch you die for his own amusement. Don’t let Rafr corner you alone with him and don’t talk to Ryuk about Rafr.”

Keith leaned back into his seat quickly as Sváfnir felt his mind reeling with the information that was just shoved into his hands. The implications of Keith’s words churned in his stomach and made him feel sick with a cold sweet. He glanced behind him to see Ryuk had just finished chatting with a silent Sully and was grabbing there freshly filled glasses.He looked back over to Keith who had gone back to scratching at the table top as if He had said nothing.

_‘What am I supposed to do now?’_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks y'all for reading this chapter and hope y'all enjoyed it's longer length. 
> 
> It took me a bit to get this up cause I had some writers block and then when I didn't my WiFi decided to abandon me.
> 
> Anywho as always hope y'all are safe and healthy and please kudo if you like this fic and feel free comment honestly. I can take it.


End file.
